I have wanted to write this for a very long time. Sadly work and school got in the way but here it is the first of what I hope will be a successful story! **FINGERS CROSSED** Dear Readers this is the simple telling of the tale of Prisonsper and Twinkward. Why you may ask? Why on earth would I ever want to write a story about most prison term Jasper struggling with the life he now has to lead and being completely swept away by sweet cute Edward Cullen his neighbor who is out and proud? Why? Because it's so fun and hot (well it will be I promise) and because Misty Haze my writer mentor and friend has helped me so much with this idea. So big big thanks to her (the gay gingerbread men were her idea LOL). So without further ado here it is in all its glory! The beginning….

If there was anything that Jasper hated in life, it was warm beer. He hated the way it didn't fizz right, the way it smelled and the way it left a filmy buildup in his mouth. It was one of life's little things that drove you crazy, that could make a shitty day all that more shitty. Or a shitty month. Or a shitty lifetime.

If his world could have been just shitty beer then maybe he would have been ok.

But it wasn't just a crappy bottle. It was the meager boxes piled in the corner. It was the sparse, rusty, creaky furniture, the puke green walls of his new home. It was the emptiness in his stomach, the lack of clean clothing, the absence of any form of payment. It was the fucking holiday commercials blaring off the ancient television. It was the current playing of A Christmas Fucking Carol that he was stuck watching. It was the coldness that seeped under the door and through the window cracks. It was the yawning silence that stretched before him. It was the dirty looks that seemed to follow him everywhere he went to ask for a job. It was the door that slammed in his face . It was the 10 years of his life taken away by his own stupidity.

Sighing, Jasper took another swig of the yellow poison, feeling it burn down his throat. It was nice to feel the burn. The pain was familiar and welcome. His whole life he could maybe count on one hand feeling things that were good. Things that didn't burn. Even those moments were hard to conjure up. The bad things like the twist of a wrist, the sting of punch and the burn of cheap booze…now those were things Jasper knew well.

Maybe that's why prison hadn't been much of a punishment for him. In all honesty it was like an alteration in setting, rather than daily routine. Nothing had changed. He still had to fear for his life, still had to combat for respect, and still got abused by the cops. He wore dirty clothes, slept in a filthy bed and ate shitty food. The only thing that was different for him was that showering with 20 other men every day turned out not to be as fun as the porn's made it out to be.

He smirked, a humorless little line turning his mouth up at the corners. Strange that a gay man wouldn't find such a thing as being incarcerated with a bunch of sex starved males exciting. One thing Jasper had going for him was he wasn't conflicted about who he loved to fuck. He loved an ass, hairy legs, hard muscled pecks and a deep voice urging him to go harder. He loved the way men smelled, the way they looked…everything. Who cared if he was gay? His sperm donors certainly didn't. They had had enough of their own perversions to worry about.

It was a strange thing though…going into prison and not wanting to take part in the rampant sexual abuse that went on there. Oh sure, some of the men there loved to fuck or be fucked. It gave a sense of belonging and power to them, in a time when they had very little to call their own. But Jasper had seen more than one unfortunate prisoner get carried off by someone larger and hornier than his fear was. For 10 years he'd been content with using his hand to satisfy that need. But never…not once did he want to do what those men did there. It was the first time he had come in contact with that kind of lifestyle.

The beer was long gone by then but Jasper sat boneless and sightless in the chair. The TV blared, the winter wind howled against the building but he had other things on his mind. Like a job. Pride wouldn't let him live off the government forever and he needed to find a way to make some kind of living. He wanted to do something honest in his lifetime. At this point he'd do just about anything that could give him a boost, but the world had other plans. Like slamming the proverbial door in his face everywhere he went to find some work. Oh, sure they pretended to find other things to explain why he wasn't being hired…but Jasper knew the real reason. As tempted as he was not to mark that box on the application…he knew that whoever did hire him would sooner or later find out what his past was. No one wanted a convicted criminal with drug charges and a gang history working in their esteemed establishment.

What pissed him off the most was here he was trying to be good, trying to turn his life around. He paid for his crimes for 7 years and now he wanted to begin his life again. Try to not be the bum his brother was, or the whore is mother could be, or the criminal like his father. It would be so much easier this time too. He was older now…smarter. He could run drugs and at least have a roof over his head and a regular meal. But he wanted to try. Jasper wanted to try real hard to be the changed man the parole board believed him to be. He wanted his old prison counselor to be proud of him. More than anything he wanted to look in the mirror and at least see someone worth while.

"Psh… as if…the only thing I see when I look in the mirror is my old man." He thought aloud. It was useless really. All he wanted to do right now was curl up on his cot of a bed and forget for awhile that he was jobless and a waste to society. Jasper wanted to remove the joy that this Christmas season was bringing to the world which had robbed him from that very joy. He was useless and alone and feeling sappy. Fuck it, that's what beer did to him. Made him all womanly and weepy, and he wasn't even drunk. Maybe he should be though…sleeping on that mattress was like sleeping on the ground. Being passed out trashed might be the best way to get a full night's sleep. After all, if he was too drunk to feel anything, the lumps wouldn't hurt right? Might as well get another beer before hitting the sack then. He stood up and stretched ropey muscles cracking well used joints before making his way to the little fridge. The utilitarian clock above the wall read 9:30. Early for snoozing but what did he care? He reached into the florescent light of the fridge and grabbed a Bud. But before he could even crack the top off…a foreign sound filled his ears.

Someone was knocking on his door.

Usually an event like this would mean a problem. Someone was here to hurt him, or steal from him or worse. But this knock…this knock was different. It was soft, almost timid. As if the hand doing it didn't know how to be loud or frightening.

Was it the booze that made Jasper stumble over to the door and simply unlatch the lock without so much as a glance through the peephole? That sounded like a fair reason since when he swung the door open he saw an angel on the other side.

The angel stood before him, smile warm, green eyes alight with kindness, skin as pale as the snow falling outside, hair dark and red and brown like spiced chocolate, and he smelled like cinnamon and apples. Light surrounded him like a halo and Jasper was sure he now understood why that guy on TV was so afraid of the beautiful Christmas Ghost.

He blinked and the halo fizzled into the golden light of the hallway lamps.

But the Angel remained in his doorway arms outstretched and holding… a plate of cookies?

"Merry Christmas!" The celestial creature exclaimed his voice smooth and silky. It wrapped him in a haze that was better than any whiskey or beer.

A door slammed above his head breaking the spell and Jasper realized that he was staring creepily at his visitor. It wasn't an angel, how stupid could he be? It was just a man…a cute man but one none the less and what was he doing at his house? Who was this person?

The visitor must have sensed his change in realization. He shifted a little as if nervous but the smile did not waver.

"Who the hell are you?" Jasper rasped not realizing until now how bad his voice sounded. Not that he was surprised. He didn't really talk often enough to use it.

"I'm your neighbor from down the hall! Just coming over to bring you a little 'welcome to the building hey it's Christmas too' cookie sampler!" The stranger held out his arms offering the plate to him. "My name is Edward Cullen, nice to meet you!"

"Um…ok?" was all Jasper could utter. Never did he expect anyone to even notice him moving into this place, let alone bring him…cookies? And even more unbelievable was the fact that they were being brought to him by one of the most attractive people he had ever seen?

Dumbly Jasper took the cookies from Edward, and stood there watching as his neighbor smiled even brighter and rolled a little on his heels.

"I just though you know…that it would be nice to welcome you! I saw you carrying boxes up here the other day and I was so excited because before this some scary old lady obsessed with orange lived in your place and I was like FINALLY someone normal! I should bring him cookies!" Edward rambled animatedly his green eyes alight and checks rosy. He was so happy and warm that Jasper felt his mouth tingle in what could have been a smile.

This man was beautiful. He could feel it coming off of him in waves. He wasn't broken, or sad, or alone. He looked fresh, polished and clean in his argyle sweater and black scarf. The confidence and joy was obviously as easy to him as breathing. Then there he was standing in the door way of his dark dank apartment, his hair a mess, cloths old and worn and 2 day beard growth on his chin. He hadn't even looked in a mirror in a week.

Instantly the ghost of a smirk was killed and Jasper felt himself wanting to retreat to where he belonged. It must have shown because Edward frowned for the first time and asked, "I'm sorry did I come at a bad time?"

"No…um…I'm sorry I just….thanks but I have to go…back…" He faltered over his words and began to pull the door closed, but a soft and hand on his arm stopped him cold.

"Wait…" Edwards voice was as warm and gentle and his grip. "What's your name?"

As a rule Jasper usually only had people call him Whitlock. No one…even in Prison called him Jasper. But this angel, this Edward had brought him a moment of kindness.

"My names Jasper." And without another word he pulled away and closed the door.

For a long moment he stood still clutching his cookie tray. Then without thinking he took the green plastic wrap off the top. An army of ginger bread men stared back at him, each with a color coordinated sweater piped out meticulously in festive royal icing. This time the smile did break over his lips. These had to be the gayest ginger bread men he'd ever seen.

To be Continued…..

Let me know what you think! 3